


Angels in Israel

by KathyG



Series: Angels at the End of Time [ON HOLD] [4]
Category: Touched by an Angel
Genre: Angels, Antichrist, End of the World, Gen, Israel, No Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-24
Updated: 2016-07-02
Packaged: 2018-07-17 23:38:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 17,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7290703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KathyG/pseuds/KathyG
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What would Tess, Monica, Andrew, and Gloria do, if they found themselves during the end-times scenario prophesied in the Bible, prior to Jesus' Second Coming? What kinds of assignments would they receive?  How would they handle their assignments?  This alternate-universe series is my attempt to answer that question, to surmise how the angels would handle the events of the Rapture and the Tribulation.</p><p>The first story in this ongoing series was written by Robin Day and myself.  The rest, I am writing on my own.</p><p>In story #4 of my end-times series, the angels are sent to help an angry American Jew who wants to murder the two witnesses prophesied in the Book of Revelation, Moses and Elijah.  With the help of some old friends, will they be able to get through to him in time?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Since the beginning of the "Angels at the End of Time" series is set in between the 8th and 9th seasons, I am inserting the premise that the events of the two-part series finale, "I Will Walk with You," never took place. There will be references to the deaths of the children in the boiler explosion, but no reference to Monica visiting the town of Ascension afterward.
> 
> The physical descriptions of the two witnesses, Moses and Elijah, and the names they go by, were borrowed from the Left Behind series (http://www.leftbehind.com/), co-authored by Tim LaHaye (https://timlahaye.com/) and Jerry B. Jenkins (http://www.jerryjenkins.com/).

A Jewish man in his early 40s stood in the crowd on the Temple Mount, glaring fiercely at the two witnesses who stood next to a wire fence, preaching at the multitude gathered there. A tall, muscular man, he had brown hair, hazel eyes, and tanned skin. A prayer shawl lay draped over his shoulder. Overhead, the afternoon sun blazed down. 

The two preachers had long gray hair and long beards. They wore ragged robes and were barefoot. Lines crisscrossed their faces. 

“Repent! And turn to Jesus your Messiah!” the one who called himself Moishe shouted in a deep voice. “Why will you die? God does not want you to perish! Turn to Him and live!” 

The man ground his teeth. “I’d love to see _you_ die,” he whispered. “Both of you! You are traitors to the Jewish faith!” Wiping his sweaty face, he pushed his way out of the crowd and stalked toward a car nearby. He paused to press his hands against the trunk of the car and raise his face toward the sky. “God, help me! Please, Jehovah God, help me.” 

Shaking his head, he took a deep breath, then approached the left side of the car and opened the door. It pleased him no end that ground for the new temple had finally been broken and that construction had recently started, but it infuriated him that these two men should stand there day after day, preaching against it, warning against the resumption of daily sacrifices, and ordering the Jews to turn to Jesus for salvation. 

As the man climbed into the driver’s seat, four angels, unseen by the man and anyone else, watched him. “Did you hear him?” Andrew asked. “He wants to kill Moses and Elijah.” Folding his arms across his chest, the angel of death shook his head. “If only Daniel Rosen knew the truth, he would not be allowing his bitterness to boil into a murderous rage toward the two witnesses.” 

Tess pursed her lower lip. “Daniel is a man filled with deep pain and an even deeper rage.” She sighed. “Unless we get through to him, that pain is going to lead him to make some very costly choices--choices that could well cost him his freedom and even his life. One of them being the choice to attempt to murder the two lamp stands.” 

Monica nodded agreement. “Unless he’s stopped, he will only get himself killed. And then, he will spend eternity in Hell.” She paused, as she clasped her hands in front of her waist. “At least he had the strength of heart to pray for help. He needs it desperately.” 

“That’s right.” Tess crossed her arms across her chest. “That’s why the Father has sent us to him. And with the help of some friends of ours, we will do just that.” 

“Friends of ours?” Gloria tilted her head as she gazed at the supervisor angel quizzically. 

“Yes.” Tess nodded toward a small group standing toward the end of the crowd. A familiar woman turned to smile at a man next to her. She straightened her blouse as she did so, then wiped beads of sweat off her forehead. The man cradled a pair of binoculars against his chest. 

Gloria squealed. “Christina Daly! So, she’s here!” 

With a chuckle, Andrew inserted his hands into his pants pockets. “Yep. She and her whole family. The Whittakers are on their honeymoon trip, and the Dalys are here with them.” 

“Yes, and the Father has work for them, too, even as they’re enjoying their trip. But they will need our help to succeed.” The other angels nodded agreement. 

Ryan Whittaker, and Richard and Christina Daly, were lifelong residents of New York City whom God had sent the angels to minister to, in the Rapture’s aftermath, back in July of that year. Richard had been, and still was, a commercial pilot. His and Christina’s baby daughter, Jessica, had been taken when the Rapture occurred, devastating her parents. (Furthermore, Christina and Ryan had lost their mother in the World Trade Center attack, the year before, and Richard’s teenage sister had been kidnapped and brutally murdered years prior to that. So all three had had deep issues to work through, even before the Rapture.) Ryan had been hired by Antonio Puccini, the leader of the soon-to-be-formed new world government, as his private pilot; he had since moved to Rome and fallen in love with the leader’s secretary, whom he had recently married. Richard had been--and still was--a commercial pilot. 

Andrew, who had served as an angel of death since the assassination of Abraham Lincoln, had been sent back into Ryan’s life once since then, and all four angels had been sent into the Dalys’ life on one other occasion, when they took in a recently orphaned child whose mother had been brutally murdered. They Dalys had adopted that child during that time. Privately, Monica wondered if the Father was going to send them to these same people again and again, during the Tribulation. 

As if reading her thoughts, Tess said, “This will probably be the last time, for a while, that the Father will involve them in our assignments. They will need plenty of angelic help for the next several years, but much of that help will come from other angels.” A diamond brooch on her chest sparkled in the sunlight as she shifted her gaze from Monica to Andrew, then to Gloria. 

Monica nodded. “Even without them, we’re going to have our hands full. Daniel Rosen, for instance.” Tess nodded agreement. 

Andrew drew his pocket watch out of his pocket and gazed at it for a long moment. “Unless we can get through to him, his days--his very hours--are numbered.” He slipped it back into his pocket and shook his head, sorrow in his eyes. 

The car engine roared; inside, Daniel turned the steering wheel. It skidded into the right lane, then disappeared from view.


	2. Chapter 1

The next morning, while the air was still fresh, Daniel returned to the Temple Mount. For a long moment, he leaned against the back of the Wailing Wall and recited his prayers, his prayer shawl draped around his shoulders. The smooth, hard stones pressed his shirt against his; a cool breeze caressed his cheek. Overhead, a snow-white dove flew toward the sun, softly cooing. 

When he finished praying, he removed the prayer shawl, folded it, and slung it over his right shoulder. Crossing his arms over his chest, he reminisced, for a few moments, about his daughter. “Heather!” he muttered. “Why’d you have to die the way you did? If I could have brought you, maybe you would have come to your senses!“ He paused. “And Wayne--what possessed you and your brother to disappear the way you did?” 

Daniel had lived in Ascension, Colorado, his whole life; he had always wanted to visit Israel, but had never gotten around to doing so until now. He had wanted to someday bring his daughter here, as well, but that could never happen now. Twelve-year-old Heather Rosen had been killed in a boiler explosion at the local elementary school, a year before, along with almost every other child in the town and all the teachers. Perhaps, if he’d been able to bring her to Israel as he’d always planned, she wouldn’t have renounced her Jewish faith to accept that impostor espoused by Christians, just a few months before her death. 

As he turned around, he bumped into a man holding a digital camera. “Oh! Excuse me.” He held up his hands. 

The other man chuckled. “That’s all right; I wasn’t looking where I was going.” He glanced at the prayer shawl draped over Daniel’s shoulder. “You must be a Jew. You live here? You have an American accent.” 

Daniel shook his head. “Yes to your first question; no to your second. I’m a tourist, same as you.” He glanced up at the Wailing Wall. “I’ve been wanting to make this trip for years now, but I’m only now getting around to it. I live in a small town in Colorado. Ascension.” 

He paused, surprised at the ease with which he was talking to this stranger. Since the death of his daughter and the disappearance of two close friends of his, he’d had no heart to socialize with anybody. Yet, something in him wanted to talk with somebody now. He took a quick look at the stranger. The man was short and stocky, and he had reddish-blond hair and fair skin. He had on a pair of jeans and a gray cotton shirt. Daniel forced a smile. “I’m Daniel Rosen. Folks call me Dan.” 

The other man extended his hand. A wedding ring gleamed on his index finger. “Hi, Dan. I’m Ryan Whittaker.” He glanced at his watch. “I need to get back to the others; they’re in that crowd gathered over there.” He turned toward the small crowd gathering in the distance on the other side of the Temple Mount. 

“Yeah.” Daniel pursed his lips. “No doubt, they’re waiting for those two men to start spouting off again.” He clenched his right hand as he spoke, shaking his head. Rage began to well in his heart again at the thought. 

Ryan cradled his camera against his chest. “Would you like to come with us? As a Jew, you could probably explain a lot of what we’ve been seeing, even if this is your first trip here.” His eyes twinkled. “Being a Gentile, I’m not as knowledgeable about such things as you must be.” 

A wan smile appeared on Daniel’s face. “Probably about as much as any other American Jew. But yeah, I’ll go with you. I’m getting a little tired of my own company, lately.” He bit back a sigh as he spoke. 

He followed Ryan toward the growing crowd, silently questioning whether this was the right thing to do. True, this man was friendly, but he didn’t know him from Adam. Still, Daniel had spoken the truth--he was getting more than a little tired of being alone. Grief had a way of sapping everything out of a person, but keeping to himself for the last few months had only made him more depressed, not less. Fifty feet away, construction workers were hard at work on the temple’s foundation. Fluffy white clouds drifted in the overhead sky. 

Near the front of the crowd, Ryan walked toward another man, surrounded by two women and a young girl. “Sorry I took so long,” he told them. “I stopped to take a few pictures, then I talked with this man.” He nodded toward Daniel. “Daniel Rosen, here--Dan--is a Jew on his first trip to this country. I thought maybe he could explain to us the meaning of some of the things we’ve seen.” Ryan turned toward one of the two women. “Dan, this is Kristen, my bride of two weeks. We’re on our honeymoon.” 

Kristen smiled and nodded toward Dan. She had jet-black hair that hung below her shoulders, and bluish-gray eyes. She had a slim figure and a warm smile. 

The other man extended his hand. “Richard Daly,” he said, introducing himself. As he had done with Ryan, Daniel appraised Richard now. Richard had black hair and blue eyes, and his skin was somewhat tanned. He had a cleft in his chin, Daniel noticed. He wore a expensive-looking cotton shirt and a polyester tie. He had the look of a man who was accustomed to dressing more or less formally. 

Turning to the woman on the other side of him, Richard added, “This is my wife, Christina, and our daughter, Rachel.” He smiled at the child as he spoke. “My wife has just accepted a job helping to run a new children’s home. Ryan and I are pilots. And Rachel, here, will be in the 7th grade whenever school reopens.” 

Rachel smiled shyly. “Rachel Nicole Daly.” She looked up at her mother, who smiled. “It used to be Rachel Nicole Jackson. They adopted me.” She paused, looking down at the imitation pearl necklace adorning her neck. “My mother died several weeks ago.” 

Daniel smiled at her. “Well, Rachel, you have a very pretty name, and that’s a pretty necklace you’re wearing. How old are you? Twelve?” Rachel nodded. “I’m sorry to hear about your mother’s death. I had a daughter, myself; she’s dead, too, along with her mother.” He paused, as the by-now-familiar grief surged in his heart. “She was your age when she died. A year ago.” 

Christina winced. “Oh, Mr. Rosen, I’m so sorry.” 

Daniel smiled. “Call me Dan. Thank you. I work as an architect in Colorado.” He bit his lower lip. “How did your mother die, Rachel?” 

Rachel looked at the grass flattened underneath her feet. “She was murdered.” She bent over to retie her white sneakers; straightening up, she twisted her necklace around her index finger. 

Daniel took a deep breath. Although no one could prove it, he wasn’t at all sure that wasn’t the case with the boiler explosion. “That’s truly awful. I know how it is to lose someone you love in the most horrific way.” He scanned the adults surrounding her. Richard nodded agreement, pain in his eyes. 

“Except for Kristen, each of us has endured such a loss, so we know what our new daughter has went through,” Richard said. “At least, though, we know, now, that they’re in a better place.” 

Daniel shrugged. Maybe. Just then, he was more interested in Rachel than he was in speculating about where their deceased loved ones were. Something about her reminded him of Heather--the same sweet nature! The blonde hair, the shy look in her eyes. 

Suddenly, a loud, deep voice interrupted the conversation. “Jesus is your Messiah! He is your salvation, your deliverance from the darkness in your souls.” The group turned toward the area where the voice had come from. 

“Eli,” Kristen said, in a low voice. Ryan nodded. The assembled group was too far back in the crowd to see the preachers, but all could hear Eli plainly. 

As the man continued to preach, murderous rage surged in Daniel’s heart. He felt his face turning beet-red. He had _no_ tolerance for anyone telling Jews that Jesus was the Messiah the Jews were looking for--such an idea was anathema to him! Nothing would please him more than to wipe the two evangelists off the face of the earth. He pressed his lips into a thin line of rage, and clenched his trembling hands into tight balls. The breeze died down, and the air turned hot; soon, beads of sweat formed on his forehead. 

“You’re dead men,” he muttered. “Just you wait!” 

The enraged man strode toward the front of the crowd. Stumbling over a thick branch, he paused to grab hold of it, then pushed his way through the remaining people till he reached the front of the crowd. “You blasphemers! You-- _you--_!” His voice choked; he shook the branch toward the witnesses. “You ought to die for this! And Heaven help me, you _will_!”


	3. Chapter 2

Daniel hurled the branch toward the two witnesses; it landed 20 feet away from them. They stood regally, gazing at him with impassive expressions. “You’re dead men!” he hollered. “You’re going to die, both of you! How _dare_ you, telling us that this--this--Jesus--this impostor--is our Messiah?! I won’t have it; I won’t!” He shook his fist at them. 

A hand on his arm startled him; he turned around to see a young woman with long, luxuriant reddish-brown hair and a slim figure standing next to him. Caring and compassion radiated in her eyes; pearl earrings dangled from her earlobes; a couple of beads of sweat rolled down her forehead. “Who--who--?” Daniel sputtered. 

“Daniel Rosen?” the woman asked, speaking with an Irish accent. Biting back a sharp retort, he nodded. “My name is Monica. I noticed you dropped your wallet back there.” She held it out to him. 

Emitting a deep sigh, Daniel grasped the wallet. “Thank you,” he said, shoving it in his back pocket. “It must have slipped out of my back pocket when I wasn’t looking.” He realigned the folded prayer shawl, which had slipped into an askew position on his upper arm, and re-draped it over his shoulder. Pulling a handkerchief out of his pants pocket, he wiped his forehead, then offered the handkerchief to Monica, who wiped hers. 

The Dalys and the Whittakers pushed through the crowd toward them; with a delighted squeal, Christina rushed toward Monica. “Monica! So good to see you.” 

“It sure is.” Stepping forward, Richard gaped at her, disbelief in his eyes. “I thought it’d surely be a long time before any of us saw you again. Any of you.” Ryan and Kristen chuckled delightedly; Richard rubbed his hair, front to back. 

Standing behind Monica, Daniel saw Ryan and Richard exchange knowing looks and nods. Monica looked back at him and smiled. “I thought I’d visit the Temple Mount while I was here. I’m visiting Israel, too, along with my friends.” 

Stepping alongside of her, Daniel smiled wryly. “And I suppose you want someone to explain the sites to you.” Monica nodded. “Well, I’m not a resident here, but I have studied something about my own people, so I’ll share what I can.” 

As the group left the crowd, their shoes thudding in the grass, a heavy-set African-American woman stopped before them, a tour guide book in her right hand and a diamond brooch sparkling on her chest in the sunlight. “Excuse me, but you look like tourists.” She gave Richard and Ryan, then Rachel, warning looks; the three nodded. “Perhaps I could show you around.” She lifted her head back slightly as she spoke. 

Christina and Richard exchanged smiles and glances. “We’d like that very much. There’s so much about this city we still don’t know,” Christina said. Ryan and Kristen nodded agreement; Rachel smiled. Christina straightened her blouse, then wiped her forehead again. 

The woman nodded. “My name is Tess, and I’m working as a tour guide here. Come with me, and I’ll show you around.” She led the group toward the parking lot, where a red Cadillac convertible stood next to a 4-door sedan Richard had rented. 

For the next several hours, Tess showed the tourists and Monica several of the sites of Jerusalem. They visited the Mount of Olives and several other popular sites, while Tess explained the history of each. With effort, Daniel listened to Tess’s descriptions, and attempted to explain what he knew of the religious meaning of the tourist sites and their significance to Jews. All the while, he yearned to get back to his hotel room, to plan the murder of Moishe and Eli. Repeatedly, he gazed admiringly at Rachel. He couldn’t believe how much like his late daughter she was! 

_I also can’t believe how quickly it gets hot,_ he thought, wiping his sweaty forehead with the back of his hand. _I’ll be glad to get back to my air-conditioned hotel room!_ He glanced at his watch. If he was going to carry out his plans, he needed to get away soon! 

When Daniel finally returned to the hotel with the others, he slammed the door behind him as he entered his room. For a long moment, he rested his forehead against the cool windowpane, gazing at the street below. Cars sped up and down its lanes, and pedestrians thronged the sidewalks on both sides. 

All he could think about, at that moment, was his daughter, Heather. She and Rachel were so much alike! During the tour, Rachel had talked about the books she liked to read, and the rhinestone jewelry her adoptive mother had bought for her at Wal-Mart. Heather had enjoyed the same interests. 

Daniel bit his lower lip. With both his wife and his daughter dead, and his best friends among the missing, his life was so empty! Another child would certainly help, and who better than a girl like Rachel? If he could have had his way, Rachel would be his adoptive daughter, not the Dalys’. She would make such a good substitute for Heather. 

With a sigh, he trudged toward his bed, opened his suitcase and drew out a photograph. A smiling Heather gazed back at him, teeth gleaming, blue eyes shining. He sank onto the bed’s soft bedspread; its mattress sagged and creaked as her perched on its edge. For a long moment, he gazed down at his daughter’s portrait, then pressed his index finger against his lips and touched its tip against Heather’s forehead. 

“I miss you so much, honey,” he said softly. “I wish I had a chance to tell you that now. I was so disappointed at your conversion to Christianity--and I still am--but I never stopped loving you.” He sighed. 

Old memories surged into his brain…Heather lying on her bed, legs up in the air, munching on an apple while she read a book…the evenings she spent with Joey Machulis, cooking or playing games, while Daniel and Joey's older brother, Wayne, played their own game of checkers…and the night--the dreadful night--when Heather had confessed to her father that she had received Jesus into her heart. “Jesus is our Messiah, Daddy,” she had told him. “He really is; I know it!” 

Daniel bit his lower lip. He had shouted at his daughter, telling her that she had brought him shame and that he would not have the Christian faith in his house. After minutes of trying to reason with him, Heather had fled to her room, crying. Daniel sighed at the memory. 

“I wish, to this day, that you had never done that, Heather,” he told the photograph. “But I never stopped loving you, and I still miss you so. No one can ever really take your place, honey.” He raised his head to look at the door. “But maybe Rachel will help. I can surely persuade her to live with me. I’ve just got to take her to live with me in Ascension.” He paused. “You would have liked her, Heather. She is so much like you. She has the same sweet nature you had, and she has your love of books. Your love of jewelry, too. Only difference is, she’s not a Jew, but I can live with that.” 

He glanced at his watch. He needed to visit the empty warehouse he’d rented the morning before. It would be perfect for both of his purposes. 

“I’ll see about taking Rachel first,” he muttered. “Then I’ll see what I can do about killing Moishe and Eli! They’ve offended us Jews too long with their preaching.” 

A knock on the door startled him. _I hope I didn’t talk too loudly!_ he thought. _If anyone heard me, I’m in trouble!_

He opened the door; a man with sandy-brown hair framed the entrance. “Mr. Rosen?” he asked. Daniel nodded. “My name is Andrew. Forgive me for disturbing you, but some tourists asked me to extend you an invitation to have dinner with them, and with some friends of theirs, tonight.” 

Daniel thrust his hands into his jeans pockets. "Who are they?" 

"Richard Daly and Ryan Whittaker." Andrew shifted position. "And their families. You met them, this morning." 

Daniel relaxed. “Please tell them I’ll be pleased to accept.” Andrew smiled, then left. 

After the door clicked shut behind him, Daniel leaned against it. He had some shopping to do, before he went downstairs to the dining room.


	4. Chapter 3

Several hours later, Monica and Tess huddled together for a quick consultation in a corner of the dining room before Daniel arrived. “Tess, I’m worried,” Monica confessed. “I have a bad feeling about Daniel Rosen, and it’s not just because he wants to kill Moses and Elijah.” She rested her fingers on the polished surface of the mahogany table she leaned against. 

Tess nodded agreement. “I do, too, Angel Girl, but we cannot act until the Father gives the orders. We know he’s up to something, but we don’t know what, yet. Right now, we’re on standby.” 

Several feet behind them, Monica overheard Richard and Ryan whispering. “Ryan, be careful what you say in there,” Richard warned. “I know you’ll want to share with us what Puccini’s up to, but we don’t know if Daniel Rosen can keep his mouth shut, nor do we know what his feelings are about Puccini.” Antonio Puccini was the president of Italy and of the European Union; with the help of the Israeli foreign minister, Elijah Dayan, and of the pope, he was in the process of rapidly forming a world government. 

“I agree,” Ryan said. “Don’t worry about me letting any vital secrets out of the bag. I wouldn’t reveal to Kristin my true feelings about Puccini until I was sure about her, and I won’t reveal them to Dan, either, unless I’m 100% sure of him. I’ll share with everyone only what’s safe to share.” 

Minutes later, everyone gathered at a large round table near the corner of the dining room; Christina and Kristen set their purses on the floor next to their legs. A glistening snow-white tablecloth draped it, hanging from its side. A waiter took their orders, then Richard leaned back. 

“Well, this is a trip I will always remember.” He smiled. He had donned a dark-brown polyester suit, as had Ryan. Amused, Monica noticed that while Richard appeared relaxed and comfortable in his clothes, Ryan sat ramrod-straight with a gritted-teeth expression on his face and his hands clenched. 

_Poor Ryan!_ Monica thought. _He always did hate formal clothes._ She bit back a chuckle, then looked up as the waiter brought their drinks. 

When he left, Monica gazed into her cup of _mocha-latté_ coffee. Wisps of steam arose from its surface. 

“So will I, Richard.” Shifting position on his unyielding hard-back chair, Ryan smiled at his new wife, who beamed back. “What better place than Israel to have a honeymoon? Even if it is in these!” He glanced down at his tie, then grimaced. “Forgive me, guys; you know that suits and I don’t go well together.” 

Richard chuckled. “We know, Ryan.” He patted Ryan’s arm. 

Daniel smiled, yet no smiled appeared in his eyes. “Congratulations, Mr. Whittaker--” 

“Ryan,” Ryan interrupted. “Call me Ryan.” 

Daniel nodded. “Ryan. I just wanted to congratulate you, and I hope you’ll have many happy years together.” 

Ryan laid a hand on Kristen’s arm. “Thank you. That is our hope, too.” He glanced inquiringly at Andrew, who shrugged. Monica knew what Andrew meant. Now that the Tribulation had officially started, a long, happy mortal life was no guarantee for anyone. Only a minority of Tribulation believers--maybe 50 million--would live to enter the kingdom as mortals. All others, both believers and unbelievers, would either die in the judgments or as martyrs. She took a sip of her steaming coffee; the cup clinked as she set it back in the saucer. 

Gloria raised a sparkling glass of iced tea. “Well, I know that God will enable you to make your marriage successful for as long as He gives you.” 

Chuckling, Ryan nodded agreement. “Kristen, here, works as a secretary; that’s how I met her. Well, she’s not only the most wonderful woman in the world--as far as I’m concerned--she’s a true professional. She handles her job with élan.” He smiled proudly at his wife. “And I might add she wears any clothing she puts on with class.” 

Kristen blushed, yet pleasure shone in her eyes. She put her right hand on Ryan’s. “Thank you,” she told him. She rested her other hand on the table, elbow off. 

Richard glanced at his wife. “My wife is a wonderful woman, too, and has been since the day I first met her.” He chuckled. “Christina is a loving, faithful wife and a loving mother. And she’s going to make a great children’s home supervisor.” In response, Christina kissed him. 

Leaning back in his chair, Ryan’s face turned sober. In that instant, Monica felt toes kick her ankle; Ryan gave her an apologetic glance. “We do have some wonderful families, which is good, because we’re going to need family support more than ever. Right now--well, all I can say is, we are in for some interesting times.” He turned to Daniel. “Did I tell you I work for Antonio Puccini as his private pilot?” 

Daniel shook his head. “No, you didn’t.” He gazed at Ryan in evident wide-eyed wonderment. “So you work for the king of the world, now?” 

Ryan shrugged. He rested his right hand on the table. “He’s not the king of the world yet, but he’s just about to be. He certainly has the world in the palm of his hand, after resolving the Middle East crisis and bringing a stop to all war, and making it possible for the Jews to start rebuilding their temple.” He chuckled. “Well, in answer to your question, Dan--yes, I do; I was hired just a few months ago. And Kristen, here, works as his secretary.” 

He turned to the others. “Events are moving at breakneck speed. Puccini, by the way, knows about our marriage now; before we could come to Israel, he called us in to congratulate us. He‘s here in Israel, as you know; I flew him in on our way to our honeymoon.” The others nodded. Ryan shrugged. “Oh, well, we knew we couldn’t keep it a secret from him forever. At least he hasn’t fired us for marrying. That’s good.” 

Daniel smiled wryly. “Puccini has a rule against employees romancing each other?” 

Ryan shrugged. “We didn’t know, and we didn’t want to find out. At this point, it doesn’t matter, because, for better or worse, we’re husband and wife now. Well, anyway, Puccini told me, privately, that as soon as every nation’s under the control of the European Union--which will be finalized within the next two weeks--he’s going to have the whole world move to the Euro. No more dollars, pounds, marks, francs, pesos, yens, or any other currency. Just Euros. He’s going to announce it on CNN in his next press conference.” 

Christina bit her lower lip. “It’s going to feel funny to spend Euros at the grocery store, instead of dollars.” She patted her hair. 

Ryan took a swallow of his steaming coffee. He winced in evident pain as he did so. “Yeah, it will, but you won’t have occasion to for long, Brownie. Puccini also told me that, as soon as that’s done, he’s going to see about having the whole world moved to a cashless system. No more spending cash or writing checks; no more making purchases with credit cards.” He wiped his mouth with his napkin. “Everyone will be given a debit card--you know, like a Smart card--to swipe under a scanner whenever they make a purchase, and the amount of the purchase will simply be deducted from their bank account.” He shook his head. 

“One other thing.” He paused. “Our debit cards are going to double as identity cards. In the aftermath of the disappearances and all the deaths that followed, Puccini feels strongly about being able to identify everyone who’s left.” 

Everyone else exchanged troubled glances. Monica and Tess stared at each other, then Monica gazed down at her china coffee cup. Nobody dared to say so in front of Daniel, but all knew what that meant. When Antonio set up the Mark of the Beast system in the latter half of the Tribulation, there would be no need to set up a one-world currency or a cashless system with it, because both would already be in place. And so, for that matter, would be an identity system. Instead of using debit cards, everyone would be required to receive an implant in his right hand or forehead; those who refused would be unable to buy or sell. Their accounts would be frozen, so that no transactions could be conducted with their debit cards. Whoever accepted the mark would have their eternal fate sealed, and whoever overtly refused to accept the implant would be executed via beheading. 

Silently, Monica prayed, _Father, give the Dalys and the Whittakers the strength to refuse when the time comes. And please open Daniel’s eyes, before it’s too late._ Tess squeezed her hand; Monica smiled her thanks. Tess’s warm hand always felt comforting at such times. 

Silence fell over the group as their food arrived; the waiter set gleaming china plates, piled with food, in front of each customer. For the next half-hour, everyone was too busy eating to talk. Seated between Christina and Rachel, Daniel surreptitiously glanced at Rachel several times, as he had during the tour. A warm glow appeared in his eyes whenever he did so. Engrossed in her hamburger, Rachel paid no attention to him. 

When the dessert was served, Richard cleared his throat. “Well, Dan, you’ve heard our stories. Would you like to tell us about yourself?” He leaned back as he spoke, rubbing his hair front to back. 

Daniel took a bite of his pie. He laid the fork down, then wiped his mouth. “Well, I’ve already told you a little about my daughter.” He paused. “Heather, as I said earlier, was Rachel’s age when she died. And my late wife, Ruth, died of cancer, when Heather was just nine years old.” Sadness filled his eyes. “She was a wonderful woman, too. Like Kristen and Christina. I loved her dearly.” 

He paused again. Deep pain welled up in his eyes. “Heather was killed in a boiler explosion at the elementary school, a year ago. During the lunch hour. Every teacher and most of the children were killed in that explosion, including my daughter. She was just 12 years old.” He took a deep, shuddering breath, then turned to Rachel. “She was a lot like you, Rachel. Truth to tell, you remind me so much of her. She was sweet-natured, same as you are. And she loved to read, like you.” 

Rachel smiled. “I wish she was still alive, so we could be friends.” 

“I wish she was, too.” Daniel shook his head. “That explosion devastated the whole town. It’s never been able to recover from it. And neither have I. And the mass disappearances have just made things even worse.” 

Monica gazed at him, deep pain welling in her heart. “That’s terrible, Dan. I’m so sorry.” 

“Thanks, Monica.” Daniel took another shuddering breath, then scanned the table, looking at the adults surrounding him. For a long moment, he just sat there, looking from one to another. 

“One of the teachers was the wife of a good friend of mine. His name was Wayne,” he finally said. “We’d known each other ever since he’d moved to Ascension with his younger rother, Joey, a few years before. Joey was--uh, mentally retarded; my Heather used to befriend him. He was out of high school, and he used to help out at the elementary school on a part-time basis. After the explosion, he took a job at the local restaurant. He stopped speaking totally; none of us ever heard him speak again.” 

Monica and Tess exchanged startled glances. Not _their_ Wayne and Joey! Was it? Monica put her hand to her mouth and coughed. Tess gave her a warning glance. Monica sipped her coffee again, then set the slowly-cooling cup on its saucer. 

“Dan,” Monica asked, carefully, “was Wayne a singer?” She fingered her coffee cup as she spoke. It clinked as it titled sideways, then regained its balance. 

Daniel glanced at her, a quizzical expression in his eyes. “He had a great singing voice and a way with a guitar, but he didn’t make his living at it, no. He was the county sheriff in Ascension; in his old hometown, he owned a lumberyard. His big job was looking after his brother, because Joey was too mentally impaired to live on his own.” He looked away from Monica, picking up his wine glass as he spoke. He gulped down some wine. 

Richard and Christina stared at Monica, then at Tess. “Did you know them, Monica?” Christina asked. 

Monica smiled. “Yes. Tess and I met them in their old home town, more than once.” She and Tess exchanged glances. “None of us had heard that Wayne and Joey had moved to Colorado.” 

“Well, they had. His wife lived here, and Wayne married her. Her name was Judy.” Daniel paused, staring into his half-filled wine glass. Rachel took a swallow of her lemonade; her glass landed with a soft thud on the tablecloth when she set it down. “My wife got to know them before I did; she worked as a realtor, and she helped them find a house to live in. She was a wonderful woman, a good Jew--I wish you could have met her.“ He cleared his throat. 

“Soon, Wayne and I were visiting each other’s homes and going out together. We’d go bowling, watch football at each other’s homes, play checkers, you name it. The one thing we didn’t do together was go to church; he did, with Joey, but I went to synagogue. Well, after the explosion, Wayne and I spent a lot of time together, trying to console each other. We were going through the same thing, you understand. And then, when the disappearances took place, back in August, Wayne and Joey disappeared. Just vanished into thin air, along with quite a few other townspeople. And people all over the world.” 

Monica hid a pleased smile. To learn that Wayne and Joey were among the Raptured was great news, indeed. _Thank You, God! I hope Charley is with them, too._ Charley, as she recalled, was Wayne and Joey's other brother. Until the time of Monica and Tess's first visit to their town, Charley had worked as a con artist. 

Deep sadness followed on the heels of her pleasure. She remembered Wayne and Joey with such fondness, and it pleased her greatly that they were in Heaven, now, enjoying new resurrection bodies (and that Joey was enjoying a new and improved intellect), but she hated to see Daniel suffer so. It wasn’t hard to guess that, with the loss of his good friend, Wayne, Daniel had lost the one support system that had sustained him in his grief. She vowed silently to do whatever was in her power (and whatever the Father allowed) to help him heal. She took one last swallow of her coffee, then pushed the coffee cup to the side. 

Christina exchanged a glance with Monica, then gazed at the grief-stricken man. “Dan,” she said, softly, “have you turned to God? He can comfort you, you know. He’s comforted Richard and me.” She paused. “Our baby daughter was taken in the disappearances, so we know what you’re going through. Her name was Jessica. She was less than a year old.” Across the table, Monica and Tess exchanged proud glances. Andrew smiled approvingly; next to him, Gloria nodded agreement. 

Bitterness creased Daniel’s forehead. “How can I? He could have prevented it, and He didn’t!” He glared at Christina, who winced. 

He pursed his lips, then rested his face on his right hand. “I don’t understand.” His voice sounded muffled. He lifted his head, then shook it. “I’m a good Jew; at least, I try to be. I’ve always tried to follow the Law, as a good Jew should. Why didn’t God stop the explosion from occurring? I didn’t tell you this, but some in Ascension think it was a deliberate act. Joey talked about seeing a man at the school; I can’t help but wonder if that man didn’t sabotage the boiler, murdering the children.” His face turned red. “And then, the disappearances--the awful disappearances! Millions of people gone, all over the world, including every baby and child! Including my own two good friends. I’ve heard some people say that God took them, but answer me this-- _why_ would a God of love do such a thing?” 

He glared at the others as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Why would He take all these people and worry everyone else like this?” His voice choked. “It’s His fault! He could have prevented all this, and He didn’t.” His fist thudded as he slammed it on the table. 

Christina rested her hand on his arm. “It’s all right, Dan.” She sighed. “I know it hurts, but you’re not alone.” 

Daniel sighed. “Thanks, Christina. Sorry, didn’t mean to spout of, so.” He looked down at the pie, then took another bite. 

Minutes later, the group arose; Richard and Ryan paid the checks. As the adults filed out the dining room, Rachel fell behind; glancing down at the thick carpet flattened underneath her brown leather shoes, she saw that one of her shoes had come untied. She stopped just inside the side lobby entrance, bent over to tie then, then straightened upward. Her parents and the others had gone upstairs; she had better catch up with them! 

“Rachel?” Daniel appeared beside her. “I could use a favor. Before you join your parents upstairs, would you help me with something?” 

Rachel shrugged. “Sure.” She followed Daniel through the lobby, and out the door. A cool night breeze caressed her forehead and ruffled her bangs. She saw Daniel’s car parked in front of the entrance. 

As she paused to look around, Daniel grabbed her from behind. Rachel squirmed in his arms as he dragged her toward the car. When she tried to scream, he clapped his left hand over her mouth.


	5. Chapter 4

Daniel shoved the terrified child into the front seat, climbed in next to her, then slammed the door; he inserted the keys into the ignition, gunned the motor, and sped down the street. “I’ll tell you why I’m doing this shortly, Rachel,” he said. 

Sitting frozen in the passenger seat, Rachel couldn’t believe what was happening. Mr. Rosen had seemed so nice; it was so hard to believe he would kidnap her! _Please, God,_ she silently prayed, _help me!_ She pressed her fingers into the soft, cushioned passenger seat till her fingertips formed dents in its surface. 

Half an hour later, her kidnapper parked in front of an abandoned warehouse on a deserted street. Before Rachel had a chance to escape out the passenger side, he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her out. Clutching her from behind, Daniel shoved her through the front door, through a huge storeroom, and into a closet; he then jerked her down a flight of stairs into a darkened cellar. 

“Please let me go!” Rachel pleaded. “My mommy and daddy are worried about me! Please, let me go back to them!” She tried to pry his arms from around her chest as she spoke. 

Sliding his arms down to her waist, Daniel pinned her arms against her sides. His muscular arms imprisoned her in a viselike grip. “Rachel, if you don’t be still, I’ll be forced to tie you up.” Defeated, shoulders slumped, Rachel let her arms drop to her sides. “You’re going to become my daughter. When I leave Israel, I’m taking you with me. You can have Heather’s room and all her toys and books.” He turned her loose and stepped back. 

Rachel shook her head. “I’m not a Jew. I don’t want to be one.” She gazed up at her captor pleadingly. All she could see was a faint outline of his face and his body; it was too dark to see anything else. 

Daniel smiled. “You won’t have to. I’m not going to make you.” Pushing a button on his watch, he made its face glow; he peered intently at its face. “I’ve got some things to do, so I’m going upstairs. I’m going to lock the cellar door so you can’t get out.” He turned and climbed the stairs leading up to the entrance, muttering to himself; pausing to flip on the light switch. Soft light flooded the cellar; a few seconds later, the door slammed behind him. 

Rachel slowly turned around, staring at her prison. The cellar was mostly empty; only a few wooden crates and a few chairs and benches lay spread out in it. Dust lay caked on the stone floor, punctuated by footprints of bare stone created by her shoes and Daniel’s. Dropping into a hard-backed chair next to her, Rachel pushed her bangs out of her eyes, leaned sideways against the stone cold wall, and wept. Suddenly, a tap on her shoulder startled her. 

Whirling around, Rachel saw Monica standing beside her, glowing. “Monica!” With a sob, she leaped to her feet and wrapped her arms around Monica’s chest as the angel hugged her. Rachel leaned back to look up at her. “Did you come to get me out?” 

With a sad look in her eyes, Monica shook her head. “God didn’t send me to do that, Rachel, but He did send me to stay with you until you’re found. Your parents are looking for you even now, and they will have God’s assistance to find you.” She wiped the tears off Rachel’s cheeks and smiled. “Come over here. Let’s sit on this bench, and I’ll tell you some stories while we wait; how’s that?” 

Nodding acquiescence, Rachel followed the caseworker toward a wooden bench that leaned against the wall, and perched on it beside Monica. For the next hour, as Rachel sat on its unyielding surface, shoes planted on the cellar’s dusty floor, and shoulders pressed against the cold stone wall, Monica told her stories of some of her old assignments. She told the child about the first time God had sent her and Tess to minister to Wayne and Joey, whom Daniel had talked about during supper earlier. 

“When Tess and I first met them, shortly before Christmas, 1994, Wayne resented his brother,” Monica explained. “Their parents had died some time before, so Wayne was stuck with the job of looking after Joey. Joey felt hated by his older brother, but he had a good friend in a little girl named Serena. She made friends with him and helped him to cope with his fear of the dark.” She paused. "This was several years before Wayne and Joey moved to Ascension." 

Rachel scratched her left arm. “Joey was afraid of the dark?” 

Monica nodded. “His parents were killed one night, after they’d gone out, and that filled Joey with the fear that he would also die if he went out at night. It made Wayne very irritable, having to live with that, and with Joey’s mental challenges. As long as Joey had Serena, he could cope, but the day was rapidly approaching when he was going to lose her.” 

Rachel winced. “Why?” She twisted her necklace around her index finger. 

Monica folded her arms in her lap. Sadness filled her eyes. “Serena had a serious heart condition--it was caused by a virus. It was going to kill her, very shortly. And just before Christmas, it did.” 

Rachel bit her lip. “That’s awful!” She wiped her face. “Is Serena in Heaven?” 

Monica smiled. “Oh, yes. And with a new body, too. She and Joey have been spending much time together since the Rapture, exchanging stories about their lives and praising God.” Rachel smiled back, then brushed her bangs out of her eyes. 

“Is Joey still retarded?” She tilted her head, leaning it against the frigid stone wall. 

Monica shook her head. “Not anymore. He’s as smart as anyone, now. When God gave him a new glorified body, He gave Joey a new, glorified mind to go with it.” Rachel smiled again. 

Monica leaned against the wall, her own shoulder flattening somewhat as it pressed against the wall’s frigid, unyielding surface. As Rachel listened, Monica told her about the yearly Christmas pageant that was scheduled to be held at the church on Christmas Eve; how Joey had assisted with the preparations, how she had finally persuaded Wayne to love and appreciate his brother, and how another angel of death, named Adam, had escorted Serena to her Heavenly home on the evening of the Christmas pageant. She also explained how Joey, who had been terrified of the dark since the death of his parents, had finally been persuaded to overcome his fear and go to the pageant, where Monica had revealed herself as an angel to the whole congregation, much to the joy and astonishment of everyone present. 

“Whoa!” Rachel gazed at her admiringly. “That must have been something! I wish I could have seen that.” 

Monica chuckled. “The whole community needed God to revive them. And He did. And then, the next day and in the days that followed, God had to send us back, to deliver the community from a con man--Wayne and Joey’s other brother--who used the miracle for his own greed.” She shook her head, frowning. 

“That’s mean!“ Rachel bit her lower lip. 

“It certainly was. Fortunately, God dealt with that man.” Monica paused, shifting position. Her shoes clicked as she repositioned them on the floor. “Then, three years later--shortly before Christmas, 1997, God sent us back to Wayne and Joey. Wayne went out into a snowstorm to purchase an angel for the top of the Christmas tree. Unfortunately, that storm was turning into a blizzard, so Tess went out to look for him. A blackout turned the whole neighborhood dark, so I stayed with Joey, to comfort him and tell him a story.” 

“About what?” 

Monica smiled. “About Mark Twain. The man who wrote _The Adventures of Tom Sawyer_.” 

“I‘ve read that book.” Rachel smiled, then frowned. “Uh, Mr. Rosen--he needs God to revive him, too, doesn’t he?” 

Monica nodded. “Yes, he does, and you’re a wise girl to see that. Let us pray for him, you and me.” As she bent her head downward, Rachel did the same. 

“Father,” Monica prayed, “there is a grief-stricken, angry, troubled man upstairs. Please heal him, and help us know how to help him.” She paused. “And please lead Rachel’s parents to her, and persuade Daniel Rosen to release her to them. Amen.” 

“Amen.” Rachel cleared her throat. With a comforting smile, Monica put an arm around the child and drew her against her own waist. 

**_______________________________**

Upstairs, Daniel rummaged through the materials he had bought that afternoon. After locking Rachel in the cellar, he had moved the materials he’d purchased from the back of the storeroom into one of the abandoned office rooms; now he checked to make sure he had everything he needed. He had purchased the ingredients needed to make a bomb, each ingredient from a different shop. During the night, he intended to set it up in the spot where the two witnesses preached; before dawn, he would return to the spot and set the timer. Hopefully, the device would kill the witnesses before any crowds began to form. 

With a sigh, he pulled his smooth leather wallet out of his jeans pocket. Pulling a picture out, he gazed at it for a long moment. Heather’s smiling face gazed at him. 

With a sigh, Daniel kissed the photo. “I’ll keep my promise. I won’t try to make Rachel a Jew. But, you, Heather--if only you’d kept the faith!” He sighed. 

He slipped the photo back into his wallet, then slipped the wallet into his pocket. As he leaned against the plaster-coated wall, resting his face on his hands, he began to reminisce... 

_"You_ what _?!" Daniel gaped at his daughter in shocked disbelief. "You’ve accepted a Christian Savior? How could you do that to me, Heather?" Shock and rage collided in his heart as he stared at her, his mouth dropped open._

_Heather gazed at her father pleadingly. "Not a Christian Savior. A Jewish Messiah. The one we’ve been waiting for!" She touched his arm. "He’s your Messiah, too, Daddy!" She tried to put her arms around him, but he pushed her away. "He is! Really!"_

_Daniel glared at her. "How could you do this to me, Heather? You have shamed me, your own father! You have betrayed our faith!" He clenched his hands into tight balls; his knuckles turned white._

_For the next several minutes, Heather tried vainly to reason with him; in response, he cut her off at every turn and shouted at her. "Go to your room!" he finally hollered. "We will talk about this later." Head lowered, tears streaming down her face, Heather trudged out of the living room..._

Raising his head, Daniel took a deep, shuddering breath. That had been an awful day, to be sure, but not half as awful as the day she had been killed in that boiler explosion! He dropped his hands to his sides. 

His vision clouded with tears; Daniel blinked his eyes to clear them. He could not afford to give into his grief, not at that moment. He had all the time in the world to think and to grieve about his daughter; just then, he had work to do. With a sigh, he began to assemble the materials. Opening a smooth tin container of nitroglycerin, he poured some of it into a vial. 

Meanwhile, back at the hotel, Christina trudged into the room she and her husband had rented. Her husband had re-entered their hotel room just a few minutes before; he sat slumped on the queen-sized bed they shared. The mattress sagged and creaked under him as he leaned forward to acknowledge his wife. With a weary sigh, Christina set her purse on the desk, then straightened her blouse. 

“No sign of Rachel?” Richard rose to his feet as he spoke. Christina shook her head. “I never found her, either. Looks as if we’re going to have to call the police!” He rubbed his hair, front to back. 

Christina was frantic. What could have happened to Rachel? She had never once disappeared on them since they’d taken her in; in fact, during her early days in their home, she had been afraid to let her adoptive mother out of her sight. Her disappearance now could only mean an accident or foul play. 

“Where could she be?” Christina moaned. “What if something’s happened to her?” She took a deep, shuddering breath; she pressed her left hand against the cool, unyielding surface of the bureau against the wall. She gazed at the lamp emitting its soft glow throughout the room. 

Approaching his wife, Richard put a comforting arm around her. “Don’t worry, honey. We’ll find her.” A thin line of determination spread across his lips. 

The door swung open; Ryan and Kristen trudged in, followed by Tess. Their shoes softly thudded on the carpet as they entered the room; Ryan’s back jeans pocket bulged with his cell phone. He had changed into a plain cotton shirt and a pair of jeans before joining the search for Rachel. “We haven’t found her.” Ryan rubbed his right hand on his jeans, then folded his arms across his chest. “Gonna call the police?” 

“Yes.” As Richard strode toward the desk phone, Tess spoke. 

“Before you do, why don’t we go downstairs and ask if anyone has seen Rachel?” Tess looked from Richard to Christina. “Or perhaps you’ve already done that.” 

Chagrined, Richard shook his head. “I never even thought to do that! I only hope it’s not too late. Come on, everyone!” 

Downstairs in the lobby, Christina approached the man who stood behind the reception desk. “Excuse me,” she said, “have you seen our daughter?” She showed him a picture of Rachel as she spoke. 

The man gazed at the photograph, then furrowed his eyebrows. “Yes, I did.” He looked past Christina toward the front entrance. “She stopped over there to tie her shoelaces as you went upstairs.” He nodded toward the side lobby entrance. “Then a gentleman went up to her and asked her to do him a favor. She followed him outside.” 

Richard and Christina exchanged glances. “What did the man look like?” Richard asked. 

As the man described the stranger, the Dalys looked at each other in shock. “Th--thank you,” Christina said, her voice shaking, as her husband drew her away. At the other end of the lobby, Christina covered her face and took a deep breath. 

“Daniel!” Richard’s face turned beet-red. Before he could say anything more, Ryan’s cell phone rang. He pulled it out of his jeans pocket and pushed the “on” button.


	6. Chapter 5

“Hello?” Ryan furrowed his eyebrows as he listened, inserting the fingers of his left hand into his left jeans pocket. “Oh, Antonio! Hello. Is everything all right?…I see. Yes, sir. Kristen and I will both be there, then.” 

Slipping his phone back into his jeans pocket, Ryan shook his head. “Our honeymoon’s over, Kristen. As of tomorrow. Antonio wants us to fly him back to Rome first thing in the morning.” 

Kristen sighed. “What time does he want us?” 

“Six o’ clock.” Ryan looked at his watch. “We’ve only got this one night to find Rachel, so we’d better hurry.” 

“Yes, if when we do, I’m going to bash Daniel’s teeth in. If anything’s happened to her, I’ll--I’ll _kill_ him!” Richard clenched his fists into tight balls. “How dare he-- _he--_!” 

“Richard, Richard.” Andrew appeared next to him. “The Father understands your rage, but that is not going to help Rachel. We will find her, and don’t worry. God has His eye on her even as we speak.” 

Christina bit her lower lip. All she could do was remind herself that Andrew was right. “Andrew, has--has God told you where she is?” She dug the toe of her right shoe into the soft carpet tufts as she spoke. 

Andrew shook his head. “No, but He _has_ sent me to help you. God will lead us to her, don’t worry.” He paused, inserting his hands into his pants pockets. “I have an idea. Tess told me that, during your tour, Daniel talked about a building he’s rented for a project he’s got going during his visit here.” 

The four adults exchanged glances. “Maybe that’s where he’s got Rachel,” Ryan commented. “Come on! We’d better hurry!” They rushed outside, piled into Richard’s rental car and into the red Cadillac that had miraculously appeared next to the curb, and drove off. Christina sat next to the open window; the wind blew into the car and ruffled her brown hair. 

Half an hour later, they arrived in the same deserted neighborhood where Daniel had taken Rachel. Since there were few lights set up on that street, the individual buildings were hard to make out, Christina noticed. They drove slowly up the darkened street, passing building after building, till Andrew said, “Stop!” 

They paused in the middle of the lane; Richard’s sedan stopping behind the convertible. Andrew gazed at the decrepit warehouse. “That’s the place, everyone. The Father has just told me.” He pulled up to the curb and turned off the ignition. “Come on. Now that we have found the place, it only remains to find Rachel and Daniel.” He climbed out of the driver’s seat, and the passengers followed suit. 

Christina looked at the moon overhead, and shook her head. “Good thing the moon’s out. It would have be much harder to find this warehouse if we’d had to search in the total dark.” The others nodded agreement. Andrew led the way into the building. 

Meanwhile, in another of the abandoned office rooms, Daniel perched on a hardback chair, leaned against the wall, and sighed. Only minutes before, he had returned from delivering the bomb to the spot where he intended to set it up. All he had to do, now, was to return and set the timer, and he would do that before dawn. “Then I’ll see about taking Rachel with me to America,” he muttered, shifting position on the chair’s unyielding cedar seat. 

“You will do nothing of the kind!” 

A startled Daniel leaped to his feet, his shoes clomping on the floor as he landed. A heavy-set African-American woman stood in front of him, hands on hips, a stern expression etched on her face. 

“Who-- _who_ are you?” Daniel gaped at her. “And how did you get in here? I didn’t here you come in!” 

“I’m Tess, and I’m here to see that you return Rachel Daly to her family.” Tess crossed her arms over her chest and glared at Daniel. “Rachel is not your child, Daniel Rosen, and you are not going to keep her. Jehovah has not given you permission to have her. Her parents are looking for her right now, and you’re going to release her to them!” 

Silently, Tess prayed that God would prevail upon Daniel to listen. If she failed, the Dalys would have no choice but to notify the police and press charges against Daniel. She was determined to persuade Daniel to release Rachel of his own free will. 

With a heavy sigh, Daniel slumped his shoulders. The wood floor creaked under his shoes as he shifted his balance. “I’d still like to know how you found me, and how you got in here without my hearing you.” 

Tess dropped her arms to her sides. “I will tell you the truth about all that when the time is right, but right now, be forewarned that your role in Rachel’s disappearance has been discovered. If you do not let her go, not only will you be putting an innocent young girl and her family through a lot of fear and worry, you will soon be wanted by the police in both America and Israel for kidnapping. Now, which will it be, Daniel?” 

Daniel glared back at her, then sighed out his surrender. “I’ll let her go, Tess.” 

“Good.” The door creaked as Tess swung it open. “Her parents are here in the building now. I’ll tell them you’re turning her over to them, and believe me, I’ll know if you try to sneak her out!” She wagged her finger, then turned and left the room. The thuds of her shoes grew softer as she walked away. 

**_______________________________________**

In the cellar, Rachel and Monica, still seated on the bench, played a game of 20 Questions. “Is it big or small?” Monica asked. 

“It’s big.” 

“Is it soft or hard?” Monica clasped her hands on her lap. 

“Hard.” 

“Is it made of metal, rock, or some other substance?” 

Rachel scratched her left ear. “It’s made of rock. Lots of rocks!” 

Monica put a finger to her chin, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “Let me guess--it’s a car.” 

Rachel giggled. “No, silly--cars aren’t made of rocks. It’s the Wailing Wall!” 

Monica laughed and hugged her. “You are a smart girl, Rachel!” 

At the top of the stairs, the door creaked open, slamming against the wall; Rachel huddled against Monica’s bosom. “Please don’t let him take me away,” she whispered, as fear welled up, forming a heavy stone in her gut, as the sound of clomping wafted to her ears from the cellar steps. 

Monica put her arms around Rachel’s shoulders. “Don’t worry; God is watching over you.” 

Daniel descended the stairs, and gazed at Rachel. Trembling, Rachel rose to her feet and stared at him, swallowing hard. Was he about to take her away? 

A sad expression welled up in his eyes. “Well, Rachel, it seems my taking you was a bad idea.” Sighing, he smiled sheepishly. “It wasn’t going to work; I guess I knew that from the beginning. But I wanted to try.” He approached her, stopping at the end of the bench. “You’re free to go. Your parents are here.” 

Squealing with joy, Rachel pressed her hands together. She whirled around, only to see that Monica had vanished. The young girl raced up the stairs, two at a time, and darted through the closet into the main storage room. To her joy, she found her parents, the Whittakers, and the four angels, including Monica, waiting for her near the front entrance. 

“Mom! Daddy!” She raced toward them, where Christina and Richard took turns hugging her. 

“Are you all right, sweetie?’ Christina clasped her against her bosom as she spoke; the scent of perfume reached Rachel’s nose. Christina’s voice sounded choked. 

“I am, now.” Rachel looked at Monica. “Monica stayed with me until you found me. She told me stories and everything.” 

Straightening her back, Christina turned sidewalks to smile gratefully at Monica. “Thank you.” 

Monica smiled back. “My pleasure.” 

Rachel turned around, only to find that Daniel had not followed her into the storage room. Turning back to her mother, she asked, “Is Mr. Rosen in trouble?” She pushed her bangs out of her eyes. “Is he gonna go to jail?” 

Biting her lower lip, Christina turned toward Richard. “What do you think?” 

Richard smiled grimly. He folded his arms across his chest and gazed at Rachel. “Well, by all rights, he ought to be; if he hadn’t let you go, honey, he _would_ be.” He ruffled her hair. “But since he did decide to let you go, I guess your mother and I will let him off. Hopefully, he won’t be pulling any more stunts like this one!” 

Rachel smiled. What a relief! Although the ordeal had been very scary, still she didn’t want to see Mr. Rosen rot in prison. 

Tess cleared her throat; everyone turned to look at her. “It’s not over yet, folks.” She looked from one to another in the enormous darkened room with a fixed look of determination on her face. Pursing her lip, she repeated, “It’s not over.” She clasped her hands in front of her waist as she spoke.


	7. Chapter 6

Tess paused, gazing at Rachel. “Rachel is safe now, but Daniel still intends to kill Moishe and Eli. Unless he can be persuaded to stop, he will be dead by sunrise. We’ve got work to do, right now, and the Father wants you to help us carry it out.” 

Rachel bit her lower lip. “His soul’ll be in Hell, right?” 

Tess nodded. “If he doesn’t accept God’s mercy now, yes, he will be.” 

Ryan stepped forward. “I, for one, don’t want to see that happen.“ He scratched his left arm, then looked Tess in the eye. “What does God want us to do, Tess?” 

Fingering her brooch, Tess glanced toward the front door. Rachel looked the same way; all she could see through the open doorway was a dark building across the street, softly illuminated by moonlight. She yawned, then rubbed her eyes. Tess glanced toward the ceiling, then nodded; evidently, she’d been receiving instructions from the Lord. “First, we’ve got to go to the Temple Mount, and find Moishe and Eli. Since this plot is aimed against them, we must consult with them. Then we will look for Daniel and take action to stop him.” The angel supervisor turned around. “Let’s go.” 

Half an hour later, the group arrived at the Temple Mount. Climbing out of the Cadillac and the rental car, the adults and a yawning, sleepy-eyed Rachel followed the angels up the gently rising hill toward the corner of the Wailing Wall, back of it, where Moishe and Eli spent their nights. A full moon shone overhead, and stars glittered all over the sky. 

As the group approached the spot, where the two witnesses sat, heads drooping, Tess called out, “Moses! Elijah! You’d better get up, because the Father has work for us to do.” 

The two bearded men rose to their feet and approached the group, barefoot. The scent of ashes wafted toward Richard’s throat as they drew near. “Hello, Tess.” Moishe extended a large, bony hand; Tess clasped it. Eli nodded toward her, then turned toward the other three angels. 

“Hello, you two.” Monica smiled at the two witnesses warmly. “It’s good to see you again, Moishe. Eli. The Father is pleased with your preaching; He told us to tell you that.” 

“Yes, He did. And it _is_ good to see you again.” Andrew raised his hand and smiled, then shook hands with Eli. Turning toward Gloria, he added, “This is our newest angel, Gloria; she was just created a little over a year ago.” 

Gloria beamed her friendly smile. “Hello. Tess and the others have told me so much about you!” Moishe and Eli inclined their heads in acknowledgement. 

Tess turned toward the adults. “Moses, Elijah, this is Richard and Christina Daly, and Ryan and Kristen Whittaker. And this is the Dalys' adopted daughter, Rachel. These Americans are visitors to this nation, and the Father has involved them in our latest assignment. There’s another American tourist--a Jew--who wants to kill you, and has already put together the materials for doing so. His name is Daniel Rosen, and he’s from America, too.” 

Elijah nodded. “He will not succeed. He will die if he tries.” 

“Yes.” A sad expression creased Tess’s face. She clasped her hands in front of her waist. “And the Father does not want that to happen to him, which is why He’s sent us angels to minister His love to him. But time is short, and the hour is growing late, so we must confer and learn how the Father wants us to approach this.” 

A yawn startled the others; Monica turned toward Rachel, who stood rubbing her eyes. Biting her lip, Rachel said, “I heard him say that he had the ma--materials all together. He said he would try to fix it so that nobody else got hurt. He--he was talking to himself. When he was going up the cellar stairs.” 

Andrew strolled toward the child; he gently put his hand on her shoulder. “Rachel, did you get a glimpse of any of those materials when he took you to the warehouse?” 

Rachel scrunched her face. “Yeah,” she said slowly. “I think I did.” She looked up at him. “I saw a big can there--it said nitro-nitro-something.” 

“Nitroglycerin,” Andrew guessed. Rachel nodded. “It’s one of the ingredients used in bombs and other explosives. Did you see anything else?” 

With a nod, Rachel described, as well as she could, the other materials she had seen in passing. The adults and angels surrounding her nodded in recognition, knowing expressions on their faces. “It’s a bomb, all right.” Tess pursed her lips. “And unless I miss my guess, he’s setting it up tonight.” 

Gloria cocked her head. “But why? Why would he want to kill these two men?” She waved toward Moishe and Eli. “I mean, what threat are they to him, that he should want to murder them?” She furrowed her eyebrows in evident bewilderment, then pushed her glasses up her nose. A cool breeze ruffled her thick dark hair. She dug her right shoe into the dirt at her feet, forming a tiny hollow in the ground. 

“What threat are they?” Andrew touched her shoulder. “As far as he’s concerned, they have committed an unforgivable breach--they have proclaimed Jesus as the Messiah the Jews have waited for, these past several thousand years.” He put his hands in his pockets. “And he’s not alone in his hatred toward them. There are numerous other devout Jews who, at present, feel the same way. Many of them would murder Moses and Elijah if they could. Some of them have already tried, only to meet untimely deaths by fire. So have a few Moslems. Moses and Elijah have the power to withhold rain and to turn water into blood. Since they have started preaching, there's been no rain in Israel.” 

Monica and Tess exchanged glances; Monica approached Gloria. “Gloria, you have learned so much during the past year--about life, about death, about love, about many things. I think the Father wants to add to your store of learning now,” she said slowly. “He wants you to stay here, with Moses and Elijah, until we come back.” She touched Gloria’s arm. “Think of it as an opportunity to learn their importance, both in the past and in the present. You will need that knowledge in the time to come.” 

Gloria looked at the two witnesses, then nodded acquiescence. “All right.” 

Tess turned to Moishe and Eli. “Gloria’s only been around for a year, and she still has much to learn,” she told them, nodding toward Gloria. Her brooch sparkled in the moonlight. “The Father wants you to educate her while we go and find Daniel. Don’t worry; she learns quickly and forgets nothing. She has the mind of a computer, and she’s been in the process of learning how to use her heart.” 

Moishe inclined his head. “We will talk with her until you return.” 

Ryan glanced at his watch, exposing it to the moonbeams gleaming down on them. “Good thing the moon is full. I couldn’t read this otherwise,” he commented. “We only have a few more hours to find Daniel and talk some sense into him.” Rubbing his left hand on his jeans, he shook his head. “At 6 a.m., Kristen and I have to report to Puccini for duty, so we’d better hurry.” He led the way, as the group left Gloria with the 2 witnesses. Their footfalls faded into the distance. 

Moses patted a nearby stone bench. “Have a seat.” 

Smiling at him, Gloria perched on the bench; shifting position on its cold, rough surface, she pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose a second time. The scent of ashes, faint when they’d approached the group, seemed overpowering now; she forced herself not to make a face at the smell. 

“I’ve read about you in the Old Testament, but I’ve never had a chance to meet you.” She fingered her glasses as she spoke, then dropped her hands into her lap. “There are so many people from the Old and New Testaments I’ve never had a chance to meet, as I spend so much of my time down here, helping Monica and Tess and Andrew. As Tess told you, I was only created a little over a year ago. Tess and Monica are caseworkers, and Andrew’s an angel of death.” 

Moses nodded. “Yes, we know all about them. And since you’ve read our stories in the Old Testament, you already know what the Bible teaches about our histories.” He raised his large, bony hand to scratch his wrinkled neck. Gloria nodded back; she did, indeed, know what the Bible taught about them. “You know that God used me to lead the Hebrews out of Egypt and to the Promised Land, and that He used Elijah to stand up to a Israelite king who had led the nation of Israel into apostasy.” 

Gloria nodded again. “He also used you to make the Ark of the Covenant, didn’t he?” She smiled. “I saw it, just a few weeks after I was created. In one of the caves on Mount Nebo. An angel named Micah guards it.” 

“Yes.” Moses inclined his head; his long beard slid down the front of his robe. “And it will stay there, until God is ready for it to be used, once more.” 

“When will that be--during the Millennium?” Gloria tilted her head. 

“Yes.” 

Leaning toward him, Gloria touched his arm. The sackcloth sleeve felt rough to her hand. “It must have been hard--leading the Hebrews to the borders of the Promised Land, only to be forbidden to enter it yourself.” 

Moses nodded, a sad expression on his wrinkled face. “Yes, it was, but it was my own fault that it happened. I failed to glorify God in my actions when He commanded me to speak to the rock in the Desert of Zin--my only excuse is that I was angry at the people. But in the Father’s eyes, that was, in truth, no excuse.” He straightened his back. “However, I _am_ here now, so God has finally let me in. I am not only within the boundaries of Israel, I am sitting in His Holy City--Jerusalem! So God is letting me finish the work that was cut short so long ago.” 

Elijah nodded agreement. “Yes. That is something Moses and I have in common--our ministries were cut short, and now we are finishing them. God used me to bring Israel out of apostasy and idol worship then, and to return to the worship of the true God. And now, He is using me to do the same thing with modern Israel.” 

“Why was _yours_ cut short?” Gloria gazed at him quizzically. 

“Because I gave up,” Elijah explained. “Wrongly, I thought I was the only God-fearing Jew left in all Israel; I thought I had spent my efforts in vain. I asked God to kill me. Well, in His mercy, He didn’t take me then--He sent one of your fellow angels to give me food and drink. That gave me the energy to travel for 40 days, until I reached a mountain where God, at last, spoke to me.” 

Gloria nodded. She remembered the account from the Book of 1 Kings. “Then God had you anoint Elisha to take your place as His prophet.“ Elijah nodded. Gloria smiled. “I have so much to learn from you. Both of you.” She looked from one to the other; the moonlight made their features come into focus. “Please tell me all about yourselves--as much as you have time for.” 

As Moses and Elijah positioned themselves to tell Gloria their stories, she leaned forward in eager anticipation. This was going to be most educational! 

**______________________________________**

Tess pulled the convertible up to the curb in front of the warehouse; the other car parked behind hers. Only the moon brought the deserted street any light. Craning her neck to look back at the others, she said, “If he’s here, we’ll talk to him. If not, we’ll return to the Temple Mount.” 

Christina glanced at Rachel, asleep in the back seat. The sleeping child’s head rested against the cool windowpane. “One of us should stay here with Rachel.” She bit her lip. “It’s past her bedtime, and I don’t have the heart to wake her now. Especially for this.” She frowned at the looming warehouse. 

Andrew nodded. “I agree. Christina, Richard, you two stay with your daughter, and the rest of us will go inside and look for Daniel.” 

Climbing out of the Cadillac, the three angels led the way, followed by Ryan and Kristen. Cautiously, Andrew pushed the front door inward, then crept inside. For the next 15 minutes, the three angels and two adults searched the storeroom, the office rooms, and the cellar. They found no sign of Daniel, nor of the materials Rachel had seen. When they returned to the cars, Ryan shook his head. 

“He must have already left for the Temple Mount,” Kristen said. “We’ve got to hurry!” 

“Yes.” Tess glanced at the moon. “Time’s wasting even as we speak, so let’s be on our way!” The groups climbed back into the cars and sped off.


	8. Chapter 7

“How did you endure the people’s constant complaining and rebellions against God?” Gloria tilted her head as she gazed at Moishe. The cool night breeze caressed her cheek, and ruffled her hair and the two preachers’ beards. The moonbeams softly illuminated the landscape and the two witnesses. 

Moishe shook his head. “It wasn’t easy, but the Lord helped me. The rebellions weren’t really against me--they were against Him, and the Lord helped me to remember that.” 

Gloria nodded. “Yes--they were.” She clasped her hands in her lap. 

Eli looked her in the eye. He raised a long, sinewy arm to emphasize his point. “As an angel, you’ve surely had occasion to experience that.” 

Gloria nodded. “Some--yes. But please remember, I’ve only been around for a little over a year, so I don’t have the wealth of experience with humans that Tess, Monica, and Andrew all have.” 

Eli nodded back, an amused expression in his eyes. “We would like to hear about your experiences, Gloria.” 

Gloria shrugged. “OK.” She paused, thinking. “Well, my very 1st assignment, after I was created, was given to me when I met a little girl whose mother was looking for a job. Her name was Madeleine. She had no father, you see, and Madeleine and her mother were homeless. It was my assignment to stay with her until she got a home.” Sadness welled up in her heart. “Only, she never got one--not on this earth. Someone rigged an explosion in the building where her mother was going to make calls. It killed her mother, and later, Madeleine.” She bit her lip. “I stayed with her until she died. Andrew took her and her mother Home. Monica disappeared for a time--the tragedy shook her faith in people, so that she didn’t want to get involved with them anymore.” 

Moses nodded. “Many wicked people, down through history, have taken the lives of those who were innocent. Beginning with Cain and Abel.” 

Gloria smiled ruefully. “Yes, they have.” She paused. “Another time, God sent Monica and me to minister His love to this man who was afraid to get involved with people--with life. To stick his neck out, as his grandmother put it. His name was Chuck Parker; he was a postman--he delivered mail to people’s homes.” Moses and Elijah nodded. “Well, his grandmother died, and Andrew took her Home, then Monica had to help him deal with his grief.” Gloria paused to watch a shooting star zoom across the sky overhead; it disappeared into the star-dotted expanse. “I had much to learn about death, in those days. Andrew took me on a ride-along, to watch how people handled death and how Andrew handled his assignments.” She pressed her fingers against the bench’s rough surface. It felt cold. 

Elijah nodded. “That was a useful lesson.” 

“Yes.” She paused. “Well, while Monica, Andrew, and I were on our assignment, Tess had one of her own. She had to befriend and comfort a little girl whose father was abusing her and her brother. The two assignments intersected, when the little girl’s brother received from Chuck Parker a gun he’d ordered from the Internet; he was going to kill their father, to make the abuse stop. Andrew persuaded him to not do it, so he ran outside and got killed. Chuck accidentally ran into him in his car.” 

She leaned against the rough stone wall the bench stood next to. Her shoulder flattened a small patch of lichen growing there. “Then we had to stop Chuck Parker from killing himself. Monica talked to him, persuaded him not only to live, but to help the little girl by reporting her father. He did, and the father was taken into custody. The child was sent to a foster home. I suppose she’s in Heaven now.” Moses and Elijah nodded agreement. 

For a few minutes, Gloria sat in silence, remembering. Then she proceeded to tell Moses and Elijah several more stories--the story of the family who was hurting in the aftermath of September 11th; the ex-high school teacher who needed to learn that he’d made a difference in the lives of his students; the young woman who yearned to find romantic love during “happy hour”; the first assignment God gave Gloria to handle herself, when He sent her to dissuade a successful businessman who plotted to get even with a former high-school classmate; and the little girl who wanted to find her father, who’d been separated from her mother for some years. 

She told the two witnesses about the widowed college professor who’d had an obsession to find the long-missing Ark of the Covenant, and how, just two weeks after God had created her, she and the other angels had finally accompanied him on an expedition to Mount Nebo, where they’d met another angel, Micah, and where they’d found the hidden ark in a cave. She described the time when she accompanied a young teenage boy from a troubled family to a rave where both she and the boy had made the mistake of taking a drug called ecstasy. That assignment had been conducted around Thanksgiving. 

“I acted like a teenager myself during that assignment,” she told them, biting her lower lip. “Being a brand-new angel, I was so naive; I had some hard lessons to learn.” She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. Moses and Elijah nodded, understanding etched on their lined faces. Gloria sensed they were remembering the hard lessons they’d been forced to learn during their early earthly lives. 

She finished by telling the two witnesses about the two assignments God had given her and the other angels, to minister to the Dalys and the Whittakers during the past few months. The preachers listened attentively until she finished. 

Moses smiled approvingly. “You have learned much in your short year. As an angel who was created just a year before the Tribulation, you still have much to learn, but you have the others angels to teach you, and more importantly, God Himself.” 

“Yes.” Gloria smiled back. “I do.” She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose again, then glanced at the moon and at the glittering stars dotting the sky from horizon to horizon. _Father, please lead the others to Daniel before it’s too late!_

**__________________________________**

“We don’t have any time to waste.” Tess turned off the ignition, then hopped out of the convertible. The others followed suit, including a sleepy-eyed Rachel; behind the Cadillac, Richard shut the door of the sedan. “So let’s hurry.” 

“Yes. If we don’t succeed, Daniel will be dead very shortly.” Andrew shook his head, as he glanced down at his pocket watch. 

Richard chuckled. “You know, Andrew, for an angel of death, you are certainly kind and caring towards people.” 

Andrew smiled, amusement in his eyes. “I hope I am, Richard, because God is. It’s a myth that we angels of death are fearsome creatures of the dark. We love our assignments, the people we take Home. God gave us that love.” Richard nodded, pondering that. Next to him, Rachel yawned, holding her hand to her mouth as she’d been taught. Richard patted her back. 

Tess led the way up the Temple Mount toward a spot hidden behind a row of bushes. The moonlight illuminated the landscape, making it easier for the adults and angels to see where they were going. Silently, Richard prayed that they would succeed in convincing Daniel to abandon his murder scheme. He was determined to get through Daniel’s thick skull, somehow. He knew, from personal experience, how difficult it could be to talk sense to someone who was determined to stick to a wrong course; he himself had been such a person only a few months before. Maybe Richard could persuade Daniel to relinquish his murder plot. After all, the Richard he’d once been had had a lot in common with Daniel. 

Several feet away from that spot rested the flat incline where Moishe and Eli typically preached to the masses. A nearly-flattened rock arose from that incline. Tess stopped short; with a stern expression on her face, she ordered, “Daniel Edward Rosen! Come out of those bushes! Now!” 

Soft thuds, and the loud rustling of leaves and branches, heralded a man’s approach. A moment later, a trembling Daniel crept out of the bushes and stood before the group, staring at them in evident shock. “How--how did you find me?” The moonlight highlighted the pallor on his ashen face. 

Richard stepped forward. “It wasn’t hard to guess, Dan.” He approached Daniel. “Rachel, here, saw the materials you’d gathered, and she described them for us. It was easy to surmise that you were planning to build a bomb.” 

Ryan nodded agreement. He inserted his fingers into his jeans pockets. “And there’s only one place here on this mount where a bomb can be planted that’ll kill those two men. We‘re here to stop you from making a terrible mistake, Dan.” 

Daniel glared at him, then shifted his glare from Richard to Tess. “That’s right--it _will_ kill those two men. And good riddance, too! And no, I’m not making a mistake!” He pursed his lip. “You’re not a Jew, Richard, and Ryan, neither are you; you don’t understand.” He pursed his lower lip, then folded his arms across his chest. “None of you do! Those men are a traitor to the Jewish faith! To see them standing here day after day, teaching such--such _heresy_ \--is an abomination! It’s more than any Jew should have to take! Those men are not going to plague us with their lies after tonight--I’m going to see to that!” He spat on the ground. 

Richard and Ryan exchanged sorrowful glances. What was it going to take, to convince Daniel in time? Noticing that his shoelaces had come untied, Richard bent over to retie them. His black leather shoes, he noticed, had made shallow imprints in the dirt underneath. 

When Richard straightened his back, he noticed the agitated man pacing back and forth. “BTW, did I ever tell you that my own daughter bought into that--that heresy? Just a few months before her death, she did. I--I can’t--!” He turned on Richard. “You’re not a Jew, so you’ll never understand! Neither are you, Ryan!” 

Ryan shook his head. “Dan, trust me. You _won’t_ succeed.” He took a step forward, then laid his hand on Daniel’s arm. Daniel jerked away, but Ryan kept his hand on the man’s arm. “You won’t be able to kill them, because they were sent by God. _No_ one can, until their time comes, and it won’t come for the next three-and-a-half years. You’ll only get yourself killed, by trying.” 

Richard nodded agreement; Daniel looked daggers at him. As Ryan stepped backward, Richard took a deep breath. In that moment, the breeze died down. Complete silence filled the mount until he spoke. 

“Dan, there’s something about me you need to know.” He put a hand on Daniel’s shoulder. “You’re right; I’m not a Jew, so I can’t identify with the pain you felt when your daughter accepted Jesus. No--uh, wait, I take that back. In a way, I can.” Daniel stared at him, puzzled. Richard glanced back at his wife, then turned back to Daniel. “You see, until very recently, I was an atheist, and I would have no talk about God in my house. When Christina, here, accepted Jesus as her Savior the day after the Rapture--the mass disappearances--I was furious. I gave her a terrible time about her faith. I even threatened to divorce her.” 

He glanced at Tess, who nodded permission. “It took these--these _angels_ and the near-murder of my wife to get through to me. God finally got my attention.” 

“Angels?!” Dan gaped at him, then froze as soft beams of Heavenly light began to pour onto the three angels. “What--what’s happening?” He stared at Richard, then at the others. His legs shook.


	9. Chapter 8

Andrew stepped forward. “It’s true, Daniel. Tess, Monica, Gloria, and I _are_ angels. Sent by God.” 

Tess nodded agreement. “Earlier this evening, you asked me how I’d gotten into the that office room without your noticing. Angels can do that.” 

For a long moment, Daniel stood stock-still, staring at Tess, then at Andrew and Monica. Total silence filled the mount. At last, Andrew gave Daniel a comforting smile. “Don’t be frightened; God has not sent us to harm you. He has a message for you.” 

Daniel bit his lower lip. He took a deep breath. “Our God? Jehovah God?” 

Andrew nodded. “Yes, your God. Jehovah God.” 

Daniel sighed. “What does God want?” 

Andrew looked past Daniel toward the bushes. “For starters, He wants you to disconnect that bomb. He does not want you to commit murder.” Andrew stepped up next to Richard. “And for another, God wants you to know that He loves you.” 

Dan frowned at Andrew. Clearly, he was finding that hard to believe. “If God loves me, then why did He let my wife die? And my little girl? And why did He make my good friends disappear, along with so many others? Answer me that!” He folded his arms across his chest, glaring at Andrew. The breeze picked up again, ruffling his hair. 

Monica approached him; she put a hand on his arm. “God did not cause that boiler explosion, Daniel. Evil did that. As for your wife, she died because it was her time to go.” 

Andrew nodded agreement. “Ruth never had a chance to tell you, but she made her peace with God just before the end. And Heather was reunited with her when she died. When the Rapture happened, not only did Ruth and Heather receive new, immortal bodies, so did Wayne and Joey, and Wayne's deceased wife. They’re all in Heaven now, rejoicing and fellowshipping with one another.” He paused. “And praying for you. They so want you to enjoy the peace with God they’re now experiencing, Daniel. They’ve been praying for you to come to know God ever since they were taken to Heaven and reunited.” He put his hands in his pockets and looked Daniel in the face. 

Daniel dropped his arms to his sides. “Are you saying that God really did take all those people?” Monica nodded. “Why?” 

“To spare them the time that’s now in effect.” Monica squeezed his arm. “Now that God has taken His Church away from this earth, He is giving all mankind once last chance to repent and turn back to Him, including His chosen people. And especially His chosen people." She paused. "God wants His people to love Him back, to trust Him, to live in peace with Him, to experience His love. Not by following rules and regulations, but by having a relationship of love with Him. Daniel, you may never understand why your daughter and the other children were killed in that boiler explosion, but God wants you to know that they are in His arms, being loved and waiting for you. And so are Wayne and Joey; they all have new bodies, now, immortal bodies. Perfect bodies that can never die, and improved intellects.” 

She paused again. As Richard waited for her to continue, the breeze caressed his cheeks. Silently, he prayed that Monica's words would touch Daniel's heart. “Ruth and Heather want you to know God personally, Daniel; when Jesus comes back to rule this planet, they want to be reunited with you. And so does God.” She smiled at him, compassion radiating her eyes. “And so do we.” 

“How?” Daniel’s voice sounded choked. 

“By repenting.” Moishe’s deep voice startled Richard and the others; all whirled around to see Gloria and the two witnesses approaching. The thuds of Gloria’s shoes grew louder as she and the preachers drew near the assembled group. Halting, Moishe looked Daniel in the eyes; his thick, dirty feet made soft imprints in the dust. Gloria joined the other angels. The same beams of Heavenly light now flowed from her, helping to create a circle of light that plainly illuminated the whole group. Richard could see plainly the two witnesses’ ragged sackcloth robes, their dirty bare feet, their dark, leathery skin, their long, gray hair and beards, and their wrinkled necks and faces. 

“Unless you are born-again, Daniel Rosen, you cannot see the Kingdom of God.” Moses looked at Daniel sternly. With a bewildered expression creasing his face, Daniel looked at the others. 

“Daniel, those were Jesus’s words to Nicodemus,” Monica explained. “Listen to Moses; what he has to say to you is of great importance.” 

“Yes, it is,” Gloria agreed. “Listen to him, carefully; what he has to tell you will save your soul. And your life!” She smiled at the bewildered man as she clasped her hands in front of her waist. 

Moses took a step forward. “Nobody comes to the Son unless the Father draws him. The Father is drawing you now; do not resist Him. Repent and ask Jesus to forgive you your sins. Unless you repent, you will die in your sins.” 

Daniel slumped his shoulders and sighed. Richard could see that Daniel was feeling humbled. How could he have been so stubborn?! And in the process, he had hurt the Dalys and the Whittakers, and in particular, Rachel. Without a word, he turned his back to the others and put his face in his hands. For a long moment, he whispered a prayer. 

When he turned around, he smiled wanly. “God has gotten through to me. Wait here.” Without another word, he stepped behind the bushes. When he returned, five minutes later, a disconnected bomb dangled from his hands. “I was wrong. God, forgive me.” He took a deep breath, then turned to Rachel. “Rachel, I owe you a big-time apology. I am so sorry.” He sighed. “I never should have frightened you the way I did, when I put you through that ordeal. Or worried your parents.” He bit his lower lip, gazing ruefully at the bomb. “I am more messed up than I ever realized.” 

Andrew smiled at him. “ _Were_ messed up. You are born-again now, so God is transforming your heart. Jesus is the Messiah your people have waited for, these past several thousand years. The Jewish leaders rejected Him the first time He came, and when they did, He fulfilled the prophecies that predicted He would die for the sins of the world.” 

Tess nodded agreement. “And now, just a little less than seven years from now, Jesus will come again--this time, to fulfill the prophecies about His reign. When that day comes, every person He took in the Rapture will come with Him, and you will be reunited with your family, and with Wayne and Joey. Jesus will be the Wonderful Counselor, the Prince of Peace, the righteous Ruler that the Old Testament prophets all predicted. His rule will last for a thousand years, then God will destroy this planet and the surrounding heavens, and create a new one.” 

Andrew nodded toward Tess, then turned toward Daniel. Soft beams of moonlight mingled with the beams of Heavenly light illuminating his body. “And every person who received God’s mercy while he was alive will live forever with God. With the Trinity--with the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.” He paused. “But right now, you have almost seven years of Tribulation to endure, and God wants you to draw on His strength and provision to get through them. In fact, Daniel, He has a special calling on your life.” 

Daniel furrowed his brows in puzzlement. “On _my_ life? What do you mean?” Dropping the bomb, he folded his arms across his chest. The bomb landed with a thud in the dust. 

Monica smiled. “For the past 2,000 years, God has used the Church to draw the world to Himself. Now, with the Church gone, He will use the Israelite people once more. His chosen people, the descendants of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. The Jews.” She paused. “Out of every Hebrew tribe, He is calling 12,000 men--unmarried men--to serve as His evangelists to the world. The total will equal 144,000 Jewish evangelists; Moses and Elijah, here, will have a hand in commissioning those evangelists and leading them to the Messiah.” 

She touched his arm. “God is calling you to be one of those evangelists, Daniel. You will suffer and endure many privations and persecutions, but you will survive until Jesus comes to set up His Kingdom on this earth. And God will use you to lead many people to Him until then.” 

Daniel stared at her, open-mouthed. At last, he said, “Well, if that is God’s call for my life, I accept.” 

Andrew held out a pocket-sized, black-covered Bible. “God wants you to have this. Very soon, Bibles will be outlawed, so you will need a copy you can keep hidden; this one will be easy to hide. You have already studied the Torah and the other books of the Old Testament, but now you must study the New Testament as well. If you want to know where you can find the account of the 144,000 Jewish witnesses, read the Book of Revelation. You’ll find it there.” 

Daniel gazed at the Bible for a long moment, riffled through its pages, then slipped it into his pants pocket. “Thank you.” He smiled gratefully. A new light shone in his eyes that no member of the assembled group had seen before. 

Daniel sighed. “Well, I guess I’d better go.” He turned to Richard. “Richard, you would have been in your rights to report me to the police, and--well, I wouldn’t have blamed you.“ He paused, biting his lower lip, shame in his eyes. “I--I guess what I’m trying to say is--well, I just want to thank you for not giving up on me. And for not turning me in, as I deserve.” He paused. “For coming after me, not only to save Rachel from me, but to save me from myself.” 

Richard shook his hand. “ _God_ saved you from yourself, Dan, not us. He saved me from myself, too. And the others, here.” He smiled wryly. “As for not turning you in, well, your decision to turn Rachel loose had a lot to do with my decision on that. Now that God has started to change you, I believe you won’t be trying anything like that again.” 

Daniel nodded agreement. “Well, I must go. I’ve got to dispose of the bomb and get some sleep. Then I need to start reading this.” He patted his back pocket, picked up the bomb, then descended the mount. The others watched him go. 

When Daniel had disappeared from sight, Ryan looked up at the moon, by then dipping toward the horizon. He glanced at his watch, holding it up toward the Heavenly light pouring on the angels assembled together. “Well, Kristen and I’ve got to go, too. Puccini wants us.” He looked at his wife. “I’m afraid our honeymoon’s over, sweetheart.” He rubbed his left hand on his jeans. 

Kristen squeezed his arm. “At least we’re together, Ryan. And we will be, for as long as God permits. That’s all that matters.” She brushed her hair out of her face. 

Kissing her, Ryan turned to the others. “What about you, Richard? Christina? What are you going to do?” 

Richard and Christina exchanged glances, then looked down at Rachel. “Guess we’ll go back to the United States.” Rachel yawned, then rubbed her eyes; Richard chuckled. “Soon as Rachel, here, makes up some much-needed sleep, that is! Christina and I need to do the same.” The others laughed. “In just a few more hours, it’ll be sunup, so we’ll need to take some naps as soon as we get back to the hotel.” A yawn escaped from Richard’s own lips; he held up his hand to cover his mouth. The cool breeze caressed his cheeks. 

Patting her hair, Christina nodded agreement. “Yes. Since I agreed to help our pastor run his new children’s home, it’s time I went back there. The children he’s taking in need so much loving and teaching.” She smiled gratefully at Moishe and Eli, then turned toward the angels. “It was so good to see you again. Will we see you again, soon?” 

Tess shook her head. Her brooch glistened in the Heavenly light pouring from her body. “Not soon, baby, but sometime.” She smiled. “The Father has work for you--all of you--and He will equip you to do it for as long as you’re needed. And you will have angels to assist you, when you need them. It won’t always be the same angels--not as it was, the last three times--but God will send them when you need them.” 

Richard smiled. “Yes. He will. Thank you, Tess.” He shook hands with Andrew, who wished him and the others well. Moses extended a bony hand toward him; Richard, then Ryan, shook hands with him and with Eli. Christina, Rachel, and Kristen took turns hugging each angel. 

After exchanging good-byes with the Dalys and the Whittakers, the angels descended the mount, and the witnesses returned to their sleeping area at the corner of the Wailing Wall. Monica sighed. “What’s wrong, Angel Girl?” Tess looked at her. 

Monica shook her head. “This is going to be such a terrible time for all of humanity, Tess. I feel so sad when I think about what they’re going to go through--the judgments, the worldwide delusion. What some of them are already going through.” She bit her lower lip. “I almost wish I didn’t have this big heart, because the Tribulation is going to try it sorely.” 

Tess squeezed Monica’s arm. Her warm hand felt comforting on Monica’s arm. “Listen to me, Miss Wings. Your tender heart is what makes you such an effective caseworker. And you’re going to need that kindness and compassion more than ever, in the seven years to come, to be able to effectively help the people who are suffering. When it becomes too much to bear, give it to God.” Dropping her hand to her side, Tess paused, as she clasped her hands in front of her waist. “Because you’re going to be dealing with people who are hurting deeply. Who are enduring trials and tribulations no previous generation has ever had to face. Daniel Rosen is only the beginning.” She scanned the darkened temple mount, softly illuminated by the moonlight. 

“Yes.” Andrew sighed. “And that doesn’t even count the sheer numbers of people I’ll have to take Home.” Sadness welled up in his expressive eyes as he spoke. He put his hands in his pants pockets. 

Tess pursed her lips. “We will go where the Father sends us, to minister to whom He sends us. It may be some time before we’re sent to the Dalys or the Whittakers again, but there will be plenty of people to minister God’s love to, during a time when delusion and God’s judgment will be sweeping the whole earth.” She looked each of the other angels in the eye. “The Father is going to keep us quite busy, ministering His love to Tribulation saints and potential Tribulation believers.” 

Without another word, the four angels approached Tess’s Cadillac convertible in the parking lot. A dove flew above them, cooing softly.  
  
  


**THE END**

**© 2003 by KathyG**

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to learn more about the end times and what lies ahead for the Body of Christ and for the world, go to this URL: http://zorrothefox2000.webs.com/mywebsites/christianwebsites.html. On it, you will find an extensive list of links to Christian Web sites, many of which refer to end-times prophecy.
> 
> If you'd like to read my testimony, go to http://zorrothefox2000.webs.com/mywebsites/mytestimony.html.


End file.
